


flowers in the doorway

by klazomaniac



Series: Klaz's MCYT Drabbles [5]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cara | CaptainPuffy is Clay | Dream's Parent, Cara | CaptainPuffy-centric, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flowers, Fluff, Gen, No Angst, Parent Cara | CaptainPuffy, i hope i tagged all this right lmao, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29732013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klazomaniac/pseuds/klazomaniac
Summary: you let me crack right through your shell and mend all your worriesor,dream gives puffy a gift
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream
Series: Klaz's MCYT Drabbles [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026952
Comments: 7
Kudos: 86





	flowers in the doorway

Flowers had a lot of different meanings. Some had more than one meaning, while others had a less significant one. That was something that Puffy had taught him in their free time.

Dream would be forever grateful to her for those times. When he was struggling and needed a distraction, she was always willing to make sure he was okay and comfortable. Ever since he had been adopted, she was so kind and caring. So willing to fill that parental role of his life that, admittedly, hadn’t been filled before.

And.. and she knew he had a hard time accepting this bit of change in his life. Hell, it had been a year and he still couldn’t call her “mom”. But she said it was okay, that these things took a while to get used to, and if it never happened, that he would be loved all the same. So he believed her, because she was honest towards him in a way no one else was.

With all the kindness she showed him, it was only expected that he would want to show her his gratitude and genuine affection. So here he stood, in front of their door, bouquet of hydrangeas gripped in his hand, said bouquet supposed to mean just that (and no one would know that he google searched their meaning to make sure he was absolutely correct, because he didn’t want to mess it up at all).

He would never tell how bad his hands were shaking, all because of a simple gift, all because _what if he screwed it up, what if hydrangeas mean hatred and wrath instead? What if they tell her that you’re ungrateful and messed up and-_

“Oh! Hey duckling! Didn’t expect to see you here, thought you were hanging out with friends?”

Suddenly the shaking hands froze, grip so tight on the flowers that he figured they might break. He willed a breath, deciding now or never, and pushed the flowers forward. They almost hit her, and Puffy took a reflexive step back, eyes widening. Dream’s eyes were squeezed shut, arms held out in front of him.

Almost instantly, he realized the force behind his actions and slowly pulled away. “S-sorry, let me just-”

Puffy’s hand found it’s way to his wrist, keeping the flowers in front of her. Her hold was gentle and grounding, and in that moment he cursed it through the tendrils of anxiety flaring up through him at the motion. Her gaze held a tender softness, one he often found himself melting at, and it was no different this time.

She examined the flowers, a small smile lighting up her face at the teen in front of her. He was already growing so fast from the boy she had seen a year ago, the one who was untrusting and angry at the world. So quickly he had let her inside to mend all the cracks and bruises placed oh so achingly in his heart. And she, too, would be grateful to him for letting her in.

Prying fingers from the flowers, not too much force even needed, she pulled them aside and brought her son into a hug.

“Thank you, Dream. You mean so much to me, and I’m grateful you allowed me in your life. Thank you.”

Tears sprung to his eyes, bringing arms around to clutch at the shirt she wore, burying his face in her shoulder to stop the tears from falling as she cradled him in the doorway to their house, their _home_.

He knew that she may never be his mother, and she knew that too, but he would always be her son and she would be so much more to him then the title of “mother” could amount to.

And Dream had never felt more loved than in this moment, worries wasting away below his feet.

**Author's Note:**

> don't judge too harshly, this was written at 3am
> 
> [:


End file.
